The Mini Mobile Suit Races
by Raberba girl
Summary: Quatre and Duo compete in the "Mini-Mobile Suit Races." No slash. Re-posted.


The Mini-Mobile Suit Races  
A Gundam Wing fanfic by Raberba girl

**A/N: Just so you know, this fic is _really_ old; I've reluctantly decided to re-post it. It's definitely not a sample of my best work.**

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Quatre and Duo were neck-and-neck. The crowd in the stands cheered them on; all the other competitors had been left hopelessly far behind. Quatre spurred Mini-Sandrock to its limits, pulling it just a bit farther than the other mini-Gundam.

In Mini-Deathscythe, Duo started to gun up the engines as well, but then hesitated. With a small grin, he gradually eased up on the controls, and Mini-Deathscythe fell behind. _'Sorry Quatre,'_ Duo thought, _'but I know how much you want to win....'_

The intensified screams of the crowd drew him out of his thoughts, and he scanned the lake-track up ahead to see if Quatre was close to the finish line yet. To his shock, it was empty. A quick glance at a small screen to his right confirmed that he was in first place. Yanking hard on the joystick, he forced Mini-Deathscythe to a jolting halt, then called up a rear view on the screens.

Mini-Sandrock had stopped some distance behind him. Duo squirmed nervously; Quatre had caught on pretty quick. Then every screen was suddenly filled with the blonde's angry face, and Duo shrank back, giving the accusing eyes a sheepish grin. "So, Quatre, buddy! Pretty intense race, huh?"

"Duo, I know what you're doing. I _told_ you that I didn't want you to let me win! Sure, I'll probably be upset if I lose, but winning when you weren't going all-out...Duo, that's even worse."

Duo took a deep breath. "Sorry, Quatre." He glanced out at the crowd. "Hey, we'd better start up again. All those fans of ours out there sound like they're gettin' mad." Both of them glanced, alarmed, at the furiously screaming spectators.

Mini-Sandrock splashed through the shallow lake to stand equal to Mini-Deathscythe. "All right, Quatre. On your mark - get set - GO!" Again, the two mini-Gundams bolted for the finish line, and this time both were straining to their utmost ability.

Sweat trickling down his face, Quatre knew that he wasn't going to make it. Even if Mini-Deathscythe didn't manage to beat him, it would come out a tie. The mini-Gundams were just too equal in abilities.

With a determined look on his face, he suddenly yanked out the twin sickles and brought them down on Mini-Deathscythe's head. Shocked, Duo barely had time to bring up his scythe to block them. A shower of sparks rained down on the two mini-Gundams, as Duo and Quatre struggled to disarm each other.

Mini-Sandrock suddenly broke free and whirled, slamming itself into Mini-Deathscythe. Duo, caught completely off-guard, crashed to the ground in his mini-suit. Although Quatre (not to mention Duo) was stunned at his own aggressiveness, he urged Mini-Sandrock to lunge for victory and the title of Mini-Champion, as Mini-Deathscythe labored to get up and regain its footing.

The feeling of triumph when he finally crossed the line quickly faded as Quatre watched Mini-Deathscythe straggle forward once again. He may have won, but he still wouldn't be Champion until he had captured the current holder of the title: Champion Duo Maxwell. "Duo...sorry about this," he said softly, "but...."

His face cleared, and he grabbed his blaster and pulled himself out of Mini-Sandrock's cockpit. Slogging through the water, he waded directly into Mini-Deathscythe's path and fired.

Duo, suddenly realizing what Quatre was trying to do, frantically started to unbuckle himself so he could leap clear of his mini-Gundam. He would still have a chance at keeping the title if he could make it to the finish line uncaptured. However, it was too late. With nearly its entire right leg blown away, Mini-Deathscythe collapsed onto the lake-track, radiating tiny waves.

Quatre darted forward and ripped the hatch open, to see Duo struggling to disentangle himself from the straps that held him. Quatre quickly grabbed his opponent's hands and snapped a pair of wristlocks over them. Duo cursed in good-natured frustration, knowing that he had finally lost, not only the race, but the title as well.

Quatre tugged him out of the cockpit, and the two of them lost their balance and fell into the muddy, ankle-deep water. Quatre scrambled to his feet and held his blaster to Duo's head, making sure it was powered down. "Good show, kid," Duo whispered quietly, as the stands exploded with the fans' cheers and the judges hurried toward them.

"The winner and new Champion of the Mini-Mobile Suit Races is Quatre Raberba Winner! Having completed the race first and capturing the previous Champion, we award you with this trophy and title, Mr. Winner. Our best wishes to your rival, Mr. Duo Maxwell, and the rest of the contestants who participated!"

"YEAH! Go Quatre!" Duo yelled along with the crowd, as he and the other prisoners who had been captured during the race were led out of the enclosure that served as the mini-prison.

"Duo, I'm sorry--"

"Oh, shut up. You knew you'd have to capture me if you wanted to be Champion, you honorable little idiot."

Quatre grinned. "Thanks, Duo. I knew I was going to win, anyway!"

"Now just a minute there! I've been Champion for three years in a row; I say you won 'cause of dumb luck!"

"Oh? Are you saying I didn't win fairly?"

"No! You are _not_ tricking me into telling you that I let you win!"

"Aha, so you _did_ let me win after all!"

"Wha--?! No! I didn't say that!"

"I don't know," Quatre teased, "it sure sounded like that to me..."

When they got home, Duo and Quatre were assaulted by handfuls of popcorn being thrown at them.

"Duo, you are a complete and total incompetent _dork_!" Hilde yelled furiously. "How could you _lose_?!"

"I lost 50 credits on you," Heero said in disgust.

Trowa smirked. "To me. Nice going, Quatre."

Quatre smiled happily. "Thanks."

"Hey Wuffie, you got it on tape, right?" Duo clutched at Wufei in mock-desperation. "Pleeeaaase tell me you got it on tape!"

"_Yes_, it was recording the whole time we were watching it on TV. Now GET OFF ME, MAXWELL!" Wufei threw Duo onto the couch, where Hilde pounced on him playfully.

Quatre sighed happily, dumping the trophy into an empty chair and then sinking into another one next to it. "You know, Trowa, I don't think I'm ever going to enter those races again. But I have to admit, it was fun while it lasted."

Author's Note: With the exception of a few modifications and the addition of the last scene, this fanfic is basically a dream I once had. Hence the AUness.


End file.
